Checkmate, General!
On the southern slope of Horseshoe Mountain, along an inconspicuous path, Viktor walked at the head of the column, leading nearly two thousand reserve warriors in orderly ranks. They were the contingency plan arranged by Yang Jie: when the Black Banner Army successfully repelled the human offensive, these troops would coordinate with the Black Banner forces inside High Court City, launching a pincer movement from within and without.
Yang Jie’s first directive was not to encircle the enemy at the gates of High Court, but to advance swiftly to the banks of the Tam River and seize the enemy’s warships—a strategy as lethal as it was silent, cutting off their escape at its root.
An hour later, beneath the walls of High Court City
During this interval, Wu Fan had organized several assaults. Yet to the Black Banner Army, well accustomed to their opponent’s tactics, these posed no threat whatsoever.
The Grand Mage, Antonidas, brandished his staff and, after an incantation, summoned an elemental giant nearly five meters tall from the spell circle.
Meanwhile, the tower under the city walls had been completed, providing ample firepower to support the siege forces.
Just as Wu Fan prepared his troops for one last assault, a squad leader came rushing over, panic etched in his face.
“Report, Chief! A massive force of ratfolk has appeared behind us—the warships are lost!”
“What?!”
Wu Fan’s eyes widened as he seized the squad leader by the throat.
“If you dare lie, I’ll kill you right now!”
Wu Fan, still trapped in his own illusion, refused to believe the truth.
“It’s absolutely true, Chief! There are at least two thousand ratfolk!”
Wu Fan was stunned.
“They even split off two thousand?”
Staring at the towering city walls before him, Wu Fan felt his strength drain away.
“Chief! You can’t collapse now!”
“We need a plan!”
The cadre around Wu Fan were frantic, sweat streaming down their faces; the sudden turn of events had robbed them of composure.
“Pass the order! Everyone, form ranks! Assemble!”
Wu Fan’s chest heaved as he issued his final command, voice trembling.
He knew panic could not be allowed. The troops’ morale was still intact—if news of their encirclement spread, their resolve would dissolve instantly.
“Prepare to march! No one is to let the news leak, understood?”
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
...
On the banks of the Tam River, Viktor was leading his reserve warriors in a fierce assault against the warships moored there.
These massive vessels, each averaging fifty meters in length, were difficult to turn or launch quickly.
With Wu Fan having taken two thousand men to attack High Court, only about forty defenders remained on each ship, most of them logistical personnel, out of a total force of over 2,600.
Viktor’s side had two thousand ratfolk—though they couldn’t fully deploy their formation, they were more than enough to deal with the ship crews.
A deckhand, washing clothes, glanced up and was stunned to see a dark horde of ratfolk charging from afar.
He froze in place...
Ratfolk warriors, clutching wooden stakes as thick as their own legs, leapt into the river. Working together, they quickly jammed the stakes against the ship’s deck railings.
“Brothers! These outsiders invade our land, slaughter our kin—what shall we do?”
“Kill them all!”
“Leave none alive!”
The ratfolk army surged from the riverbank, launching their attack on the human fleet.
Previously, three ships had been sent back by the alliance’s Feng Wanqing, leaving Wu Fan with only twelve warships.
Faced with the overwhelming ratfolk force, Old John, acting captain, furrowed his brow, pounding the railing twice and spitting into the Tam River.
Turning to his first mate—his son, Young John—he said,
“Gather everyone onto the Saint George, the Explorer, and the Blue Rose. Cut the anchor lines and set sail immediately.”
“Captain, you mean...?”
“Abandon the other nine ships and return at once! We only have enough crew to operate three ships.”
“But Chief Wu Fan hasn’t returned yet! He still has two thousand men—if we just hold out for them…”
“Smack!”
Old John raised his calloused, rope-scarred hand and delivered a sharp slap to his son’s face.
“Look at the situation before you!”
“How are these few deckhands supposed to defend anything?”
“The ratfolk focus their attack here because the two thousand warriors with the chief pose no threat!”
“They mean to trap us all here—do you understand?”
Old John vented everything at once, seeing his son’s composure crack. He cupped Young John’s face, pulling him into a tight embrace to comfort him...
“Remember when you asked me the most important quality in a sailor?”
“It’s calmness!”
“Pull yourself together! There’s no time to waste!”
Old John ruffled his son’s messy hair, pushed him forward, and barked,
“Everyone, assemble here! Move!”
“Jason! You have thirty seconds—climb the mast and lower the sails!”
“Aye, Captain!”
“Nolly! Get all the crew from the other ships over here!”
“Understood, Captain John!”
“Everyone else, follow me to the hold and start rowing!”
“Doug, take the helm—don’t run aground again!”
“Move! Get moving!”
Under Old John’s shouts, the young sailors slowly regained their composure. The chaos aboard began to dissipate, replaced by order under his command...
...
On the walls of High Court, Yang Jie watched as the human forces retreated like a receding tide and couldn’t help but grin.
He knew his plan was now unfolding. After weathering several waves of assault, he had finally landed a powerful counterblow right at the enemy’s most vital spot.
“Monocle!”
“Chief! Here!”
“Open the gates. Deploy all Black Banner troops—pursue the enemy!”
“Understood!”
“Remember—not a head-on fight! Stay on their tail, break their spirit first, then crush them outright!”
“Yes, Chief!”
...
Outside High Court, at the center of the human formation, Wu Fan led his warriors swiftly toward the river.
Descending the gentle slope to the west of Horseshoe Mountain, they saw the city gates thrown wide and Black Banner soldiers pouring out, weapons in hand.
“Chief! These ratfolk dare pursue us—should we turn and strike?”
“Leave them be. If we hit them, they’ll just retreat—their aim is to stay on our heels!”
“Order the army to speed up the march!”
“Yes, Chief!”
Ten minutes later, when Wu Fan’s force reached the Tam River, they saw a line of ratfolk already waiting, weapons drawn and battle-ready.
Viktor stood atop his flagship, gripping the ballista, its bolt aimed directly at them.
Just two hours ago, Wu Fan had stood in the same spot, firing the ballista mercilessly at the ratfolk.
Now, behind Wu Fan’s force, Yang Jie and Monocle led the Black Banner troops, halting a hundred meters away...
Damn it, General!